Last night, I went to see the new Superman film by James Gunn (don’t worry—this is a spoiler-free post). Just wanted to get that out of the way before I dive in.

As a kid, I used to dream of being a superhero. I’d watch the old Superman films with Christopher Reeve and feel that deep sense of hope those stories tried to share. And somehow, sitting in the cinema last night, I felt that same feeling again. The film made me laugh, made me feel, and transported me—right back to childhood.

It reminded me of how alone I often felt during my hospital treatment as a kid—not in a heavy way, but in a reflective one. I used to imagine I had powers of my own. I built whole worlds in my head as a way to escape the pain. Back then, watching Superman made me feel braver. Last night, watching him again reminded me of how far I’ve come.

People sometimes say things like “your disability is your superpower.” And I get it—it's meant to be uplifting. But honestly? It’s not always a superpower. Sometimes it’s just pain. It’s exhaustion. It’s missing out. It’s constantly adapting to a world that wasn’t designed for you. Yes, I’ve grown stronger and gained perspective—but that doesn’t mean the struggle is magical. It’s not always a story of triumph. Sometimes, just surviving is enough. And that deserves recognition, too.

So in the context of Superman—and what the emblem on his chest stands for—I’d say this:

That ‘S’ doesn’t stand for perfection, or invincibility. It stands for hope. For resilience. For holding on, even when things feel impossible. And sitting there in the cinema, I realised that’s what I’ve been doing all along.

Sometimes, a film isn’t just a film. Sometimes, it becomes a mirror—reflecting back the parts of you that were once buried under survival, pain, or time. It helps you remember who you were when you needed heroes the most… and realise just how much of that brave, imaginative, quietly powerful person is still inside you.

Maybe we don’t fly or lift buildings. But we endure. We adapt. We carry stories within us that helped us get through—and maybe, just maybe, that’s its own kind of superpower.

The film conveys this really well. Compared to recent takes on Superman and Clark Kent, I think this version brings something different—something more human. It reminded me of how Clark's strength has never just been about his powers. It’s about his heart. His connection to others. His decision to keep showing up, even when the world doesn’t understand him.

And maybe that’s what hit home the most. Because for many of us living with disability or difference, that quiet kind of strength—the kind that no one sees but that gets us through the day—is the most heroic thing of all.